100 situations
by lazaefair
Summary: I have misguidedly signed up for a 100 situations prompt table for MugenYatsuha over at LJ. Prompts completed since February? Not a lot. At any rate, I'll upload them as I write them.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Author Finally Gets Around to That Damn Prompts Table  
Author: Lazaefair  
Fandom: Samurai Champloo  
Pairing: Mugen/Yatsuha  
Table prompt: Disgust  
Warnings: Sex, explicit language, inappropriate cultural references, girl power

Grunt, grunt, snort, snort. Yatsuha looked up at the thing enthusiastically fucking away atop her. She squeezed her cunt muscles together a little more, was rewarded by a strangled moan, and rolled her eyes. God, men were pathetic. Give them a little slot B for their tab A and they're utterly helpless for...sadly, about five minutes, if she was lucky. A two-bit dive like this wasn't the sort of place men went to for romantic, flower-drenched fantasies.

The customer grunted some more, spasmed, and lay panting, getting his greasy hair all over her face. Yatsuha prayed for patience. You finish one mission in a brothel, spectacularly successful, and do they thank you for breaking up the biggest counterfeiting ring in Japan? No, they turn around and put you right on another case and oh look, it means going undercover in a brothel. Again. This time around, her erstwhile employers weren't the sort who believed in clean clothing or clean bedding. Clean anything. She was going to get horrible diseases from this case, she just knew it.

The man-pig had rolled off and was getting dressed, ignoring her the same way she was ignoring him. Skinny, bony guy, still growing into his gangly limbs, and noisily spending his week's earnings on women and probably booze afterwards. Not much different from Mugen, really.

Except she could've kicked this little snot's ass to Edo and back. With Mugen, she didn't have a chance in a straight-on fight. Which was why she didn't intend to fight him the next time they met. At least, not vertically.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Monday AfterAuthor: Lazaefair  
Fandom: Samurai Champloo  
Pairing: Mugen/Yatsuha  
Table Prompt: Restaurant  
Warning: Violence, crude language, half-hearted attempts to evoke Douglas Adams' writing style

1.  
If this was a television show, the camera would linger briefly on the shadows just on the edges of the teahouse, the corners where shadowy strangers sit wrapped in shadows observing hapless people. The camera would focus on one particular corner just long enough for the viewer to discern a shadowy figure crouched there, long enough to raise the suspense, right before cutting to some hopelessly mundane scene, like that of a gangly young man pouring stupefyingly large amounts of alcohol into his face, for example, to reinforce the sense that There Is Something Afoot.

Except, of course, this is not a television show. This is Mugen's life, and he would quite a bit of offense were anyone to suggest that he is merely a fictional construct created for the entertainment of a vast, faceless audience that makes a habit of sitting in front of boxes with flickering screens every Tuesday at 11, or whenever the television channel gods deem appropriate.

Not that Mugen ever thinks about improbable scenarios like these. Figment of anyone's imagination or not, he has his definite preferences for thinking material, among which include sex, violence, and pouring stupefyingly large amounts of alcohol into his face - the other customers in the teahouse sat slightly poleaxed at the display. If there had been a camera, it would have flashed back to the shadowy stranger, who smiled with sparkling white teeth. Or...anyway, Mugen finished his sake in short order, wiped his mouth, and kicked his chair over when he staggered up to leave.

The server gestured at him frantically. Mugen failed to raise a scarred eyebrow in sardonic questioning, or drawl a scathingly superior reply, or indeed evince any kind of recognition of the gesture at all and instead lurched quickly towards the door. Whereupon one of the teahouse bodyguards, who doubled in his spare time as the owner's hulking son, appeared out of nowhere and tackled him, shouting something about "dine and dash." Mugen dove out of the way and into a long table, upsetting the drinks and the customers, some of whom continued the trend of diving out of the way in the true fashion of seasoned teahouse veterans, but many more apparently felt the need to defend their outraged drinks, and waded into the brawl.

Mugen drew his sword and started lopping limbs (and heads), like so many dollies in the hands of a gleeful, sadistic child. The shadowy stranger moved up into the ceiling to better watch and avoid being jostled. The ceiling might have been rather odd choice of locale, but ninjas are like that.

2.  
"I see you don't need your friends to burn a teahouse down."

"Hey! Where do you get off...who the fuck are you?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to track one person down?" The stranger sounded disgusted. "You'd think the infamous Ryukyu criminal would be easy to find, but no. Hey! Watch where you wave that thing!"

He grinned. "Funny, women keep saying that." He waved the sword, she dodged. "You are a woman, right?"

"What, did the enormous tits tip you off?" The stranger's breasts were, in fact, not any particular size to brag about, though it was hard to tell through the dim streetlights and the unisex black clothing she wore what size they really were. Mugen pointedly leered at them anyway.

She had a knife out now. Which really isn't much help against a sword, unless...

"Ninja, huh?"

"What, did the mysterious black hood tip you off?" She was weaving erratically now, still dodging and trying to stab him with precise grace, though usually as far as Mugen was concerned, stabbing was stabbing and he didn't give a fuck-all about grace. Anyway, she was good, but still at a serious disadvantage, and soon the knife dropped and the sword dropped and he had her pinned to a wall by her wrists.

The ninja swore and struggled, but they both knew it was futile, which seemed to infuriate her more. "Fuck…fuck! I'm supposed to marry you, not fight you again!" She kicked at his shins.

"Huh...what?" Mugen absently moved a leg to avoid the kicks, being more occupied by the ninja's inexplicable statement. Something Is Afoot, he might have thought, but he was getting distracted by her breasts and the nice, clean sweat scent he could smell on her (nobody said Mugen was dainty in his tastes).

"Um...look, naked chick over there!"

In a move that Mugen would richly regret later - five seconds later, in fact - he turned and looked. The ninja kicked him _very_ soundly in the nuts. The non-existent camera zoomed in on Mugen's agonized face.

It was a strange way to begin a courtship, though most would hesitate to apply the term 'courtship' to Mugen and Yatsuha. But then, this isn't a television show, so it's not like there was an audience to cheer when memory finally bashed Mugen over the head and he went hunting for the kiss he didn't get the first time around.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Nightmares  
Author: Lazaefair  
Pairing: Mugen/Yatsuha  
Prompt: kitchen  
Warning: swearing

"Yatsuha!"

"Yatsuha!"

"Where's the RICE, Yatsuha?"

"Mummy, I'm hungry!"

"Yatsuha, the water is boiling dry!"

"Yatsuha, the fire is burning low!"

"Mummy!"

Yatsuha ground her teeth.

"Where's the RICE?"

She set the iron rice pot down on the stove, where it would probably scald and she would probably have to spend hours scraping it clean.

"Porridge AGAIN? I hate porridge!"

She opened her mouth.

"Everyone, SHUT THE H--"

"Yatsuha! Is that any way to talk in front of your child? I understand your husband is quite uncouth--"

"Don't stop there, mother, tell me how you _really_ feel!"

"--but men are men and we women must set an example for them. Civility, my dear! You know, when I was married to your father ever so many years ago, and you were such a disagreeable, squalling infant, I said to him, I said--"

"You know what, you can _keep_ your STUPID SQUALLING THING--"

"Yatsuha! Dammit, wake the fuck up!"

Yatsuha dimly registered silver eyes and a bristly chin, before her body caught up with her brain and she sent Mugen flying off the futon. He sprawled on a tatami with an indignant squawk.

"I changed my mind," Yatsuha announced, too rattled to calm her breathing. "I don't want to get married."

Mugen looked like he'd been kicked in the gut. "Marriage? What the fuck are you on about, woman!?"

"Nothing that concerns you," she replied, serenity suddenly regained now that the decision had been made. There would be no children, no slaving over kitchen stoves, no lecturing mothers, no marriage in _her_ future. She had seen the danger. "Go back to sleep."

"Moody bitch," Mugen muttered while climbing back onto the futon, quite unconscious of any irony.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Fast times

Warnings - swearing, set post-series

&

The floor's a good one. Rough, but no splinters, and planed flat. There's a weak spot in the northeast corner that has a little more give than the rest. Yatsuha had sized up the room carefully before she picked it, though the opponent fighter she was trying to trap in this isolated little house was definitely _not_ Mugen.

Why _he'd_ shown up instead of Akane is a mystery Yatsuha is currently trying to solve. After she beats his ass into the ground.

"What the HELL are you doing here?"

"Felt like it." His grin is feral.

"That's not an answer!"

The floor protests, loudly, as she bends backwards to avoid a sweep of his sword. He does a weird flippy thing - does he have a spine? - and avoids the katana backslashing toward his midsection. They break off, circle, and the floor creaks a little more under his metal-soled geta.

Yatsuha grits her teeth. She'd dreamed about this, dammit, except she's on a job and Mugen's presence causes unpleasant questions about said job to pile up in suspicious corners of her mind. Dangerous distractions considering that this time he appears to genuinely want to fight her. One thing's for sure, this stage of the operation is shot to complete fuckin' hell.

"Where the hell is Akane?"

Dodge, sweep--

"Who?"

His blade - a straight-edged one this time, and where did he get a _European_ sword - whispers over her neck as she twists down and away. "Don't fuck with me," she warns.

"Yeah, like I got to do that last time," he snorts, and rebounds off a wall.

"Shit!" she curses, and not just because he'd just nicked her arm. They freeze - at least she'd made him break out in a sweat this time - and blood slides down her skin, pools in the hollow of her elbow.

Hankichi's going to be so pissed.

"Screw this," Yatsuha snaps. Mugen _isn't_ the one she came here to fight, and it's not like she's going to be able to promise him sexual favors in exchange for wiping ninja clans out like last time. This time it's more like delicately tracking down and staking out treasonous yakuza bosses, and assassinating their bodyguards, completely undetected. "Did you take out Akane, or what?"

Her muscles loosen a fraction, and she realizes she's responding to him relaxing his stance. He lowers his sword a little. "Dude with the beads and shaved head? Nah, he's in a teahouse right now. Likes the owner's daughter." His mouth falls into a leer, aimed squarely at her chest. "She's all right, but got nothin' on your--"

"Which. Teahouse."

The grin widens. He straightens, lowering his sword completely. Even leans casually on it, drawls, "Promise me something."

"Like hell."

"You want him or not?"

"I can beat it out of you."

"Fuckin' try it." The feral grin flashes back, and suddenly he's closer - much closer. "Give me a kiss, maybe I'll think about it."

She stretches her lips over her teeth and doesn't step back. "Oh, just a kiss?"

"Hmmm...no."

It's tempting, very tempting. What better way to go through an opponent's guard than getting him hot, bothered and pantsless?

On the other hand, she could very well end up pinned against a wall again and staking the operation - again - on imaginary naked women. He's the better fighter overall and she's not willing to find out if he'll fall for the same lame line. Twice was incredibly lucky last time, and anyway this Mugen she's facing isn't the same one. Wiser, scarred, (marginally) less horny. Steadier.

"Sorry, I'll have to take a rain check," Yatsuha says and shifts back.

His face changes an instant before she blurs towards the door. When she looks around, he's scowling, but there's a hint of wry resignation in the lift of his brows. And then she's outta there.

&

He leaves about a minute later; Yatsuha peeks over the edge of the roof and notes where his gaze falls. Hankichi is fast, but she's the agile one of the team, and a natural propensity for climbing up just about anything made it easy to scramble up here immediately after her own dramatic exit.

Mugen's annoyed - his movements are sharp and petulant, but she's more tipped off by the mumbled curses drifting up to her ears. But he sets off the path to the left, and - it's not the stride of someone with nothing better to do. He has a determined look to him.

Maybe it's the determination to go eat or go whoring, but then again it might not. The odds of random Ryukyan criminals showing up in place of yakuza bodyguards who'd been conveniently distracted in teahouses? Not fucking likely.

We're not finished with each other, not by a long shot, she thinks, and slips off the roof to follow him into the wilderness, for better or for worse.


End file.
